Smugglers tales and World Wars on the Heideroute

I’m not sure anyone who isn’t Dutch or Belgian has heard of the Kalmthoutse Heide. On the border north of Antwerp, this beautiful heathland, dotted with pine woods, dunes and fens, is a wetland of international importance. Especially if you’re a migratory bird. Twinned with a park on the Dutch side of the border it covers over 6,000 hectares. Even more extraordinary is the fact that the area saw vicious fighting in 1944.

On 2nd September 1944, Allied troops crossed the Belgian border. Months of fighting lay ahead. The Allied advance to the Netherlands began in October passing through the area in which I was cycling. The fighting was terrible, Canadian troops suffered heavy losses. In Heide, where my journey began, stands the Monument of Gratitude to the Canadian Liberators. Many other reminders of war are scattered around the Heideroute.

It was fortunate there was a fascinating history to discover along the route. Apart from the landscape of the Kalmthoutse Heide, this region of Flanders must count as one of the least visually interesting in Belgium. Seemingly endless flat farmland accompanied by the stench of industrial animal farming and devoid of much else, it was challenging on the eyes and nose at times.

The Heideroute opened as the first signposted route in this region in 1975. Judging by the number of cyclists I saw, it remains popular. The main sight is the Kalmthoutse Heide and the most exciting part about that are the handful of viewing towers that are found in the landscape. These provide great views, even on a day when sand from the Sahara had blown across Europe creating a strange orange-tinted haze.

After passing through the Kalmthoutse Heide I headed to the small town of Essen. Most famous for being bordered by the Netherlands on three sides, in 1831 there was an infamous battle here during the War for Belgian Independence from the Dutch. My goal though was to visit a place called Robotland. I had visions of futuristic cyborgs, but it was more of an interactive museum for kids. I didn’t dawdle.

Cycling through woodlands close to the Dutch border I came to an old customs post with a memorial called De Strontpaal, or the Dung Post. Allegedly, this is where border guards relieved themselves. There’s information on the smuggling activities that were rampant in the area, including a memorial to Klaveren Vrouwtje, a smuggler notorious for dressing as a woman. He was killed here in 1916.

Klaveren Vrouwtje’s real name was Geert Schrauwen, and he was clearly a ‘character’. So outrageous were his actions, his legend has survived for over a century. He sometimes dressed as a nun to smuggle goods, occasionally as a priest. Once, dressed as a border guard officer, he ‘inspected’ the troops while fellow smugglers carried contraband across the border unseen.

Close by I found another memorial, this time to Second World War resistance fighter, Jos Loos. A Belgian soldier who fought the German invasion, at great personal risk Loos returned to his native Essen and hid British, Canadian and American airmen from the Nazis. Further on I stopped and climbed De Klot, an observation tower overlooking flat wetlands filled with noisey migrating geese.

Here was a piece of history from the First World War. The Dodendraad, or Wire of Death was an electrified fence running the length of the Dutch-Belgian border. Designed to prevent Belgians escaping occupation – the Netherlands was neutral during the war – as many as 30,000 people may have crossed the fence. More than 1,000 died. This remaining section says much about the brutality inflicted on civilians.

I’d never heard of the Wire of Death, but it’s a reminder of how this largely forgotten corner of Belgium once witnessed extraordinary events. This was reinforced as I passed through Wuustwezel. In the Town Hall gardens was a monument to the 286 soldiers and civilians who lost their lives during the World Wars. It’s a place where the histories of the two wars converged.